


A Burden of Legacy

by captainmazzic (lordtarantula)



Series: The Sith Tribunal AU [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Angst, Dark Side Positivity, Gen, Sith Empire, master and apprentice feels, talking about death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 11:19:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14236152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordtarantula/pseuds/captainmazzic
Summary: Decades before the events of Opening Dialogue, Adrestin has received word that he is just about to earn the right to call himself a Darth.





	A Burden of Legacy

“Apprentice.”

“Yes, master?”

“You have been deemed worthy by my peers. The title of Darth will be bestowed upon you.”

Adrestin looked up from where he knelt before the ancient Devaronian Sith. “It is a great honor, my lord.”

He received a slow nod in return. “There is but one test remaining, and I have great faith that you will overcome all obstacles in your path.” One gnarled hand extended from the heavy furs that wrapped Darth Scadox from shoulders to boots, and he rested it lightly on Adrestin’s horned head. “I foresee you becoming a powerful and influential Dark Lord of the Sith. You will surpass me, as is the hope of all masters of their apprentices.”

Adrestin cast one pair of eyes back down to the floor, a tiny hint of a smile flashing briefly over his face. “It is a great responsibility to live up to your hope, my lord. I bear it with immense pride.”

Scadox almost smiled. His hand retreated from Adrestin’s head and motioned for him to rise before it disappeared again beneath the furs. “Soon you will choose your own Sith name. It will not be long before I will be unable to indulge in calling you my apprentice. Walk with me.”

Adrestin got to his feet and followed after his master, coming up to his side and keeping an even stride with his slow pace as they strolled the promenade together. The orange light of the setting sun filtered in through the pillars and windows, bathing everything in a warm glow and casting long shadows behind them. They passed by only a few other Sith, all of whom gave a wide berth to Lord Scadox and his massive apprentice out of respect, or fear. Long moments of silence passed, and it was not until they had reached the entrance to the courtyard that Scadox spoke again. His voice was quiet, in hushed tones meant solely for Adrestin’s ears.

“We have fought hard to carve out the more noble traditions of the ancient Sith ways, and graft them back onto our people. You have seen me and my comrades plant the seeds of the shadow Sith Tribunal, and I will rely on you to help those seeds to sprout and flourish. The Sith _will_ return to their former noble glory, though it may take ten thousand more years.” He sighed. “But all that being so, we still live in the midst of the barbaric among us, and it is within their savage rites that we must rise.”

He gestured ahead of them. “Come into the courtyard with me. It is here I wish to witness your final trial.”

Adrestin hesitated, a frown marring his face. “My lord… such trials are of the very things you have tried to wipe out among the practices of the Sith.”

“Indeed.” Scadox swept aside one corner of his furred coat, revealing the long polearm of his saberstaff. “But they are not extinct yet. And you still live among barbarians, apprentice. Mask your subversive intentions behind their customs, so you may have time to grow even greater in power. And then you will crush them all beneath your heels when you are ready to reveal yourself. Bide your time, apprentice. Draw your blades. The masters are watching.”

Adrestin’s upper pair of eyes flicked to the balconies on the far side of the courtyard terraces, and saw cloaked and armored figures lingering in the shadows. He hissed under his breath. “I have disobeyed you rarely, my master, and I am loath to do so now… but I will not fight you. Not to the death.”

A weary and patient sigh escaped Scadox. “I am already dying, Adrestin. You know this to be true. I do not wish to die shriveled and helpless, chained to a hospital bed by catheters and intravenous drip tubes. Do an old man a favour, and let him die with dignity by the hand of his apprentice.”

“I… No. I cannot do it.” Adrestin shook his head, blinking back sudden tears. “You have asked much of me over the decades that I have been by your side, and I have gladly given all. But this is something I cannot do. I will not do it.”

A tattooed eyebrow arched up. “If you do not, then one of _those,”_ and here he inclined his head to the shadowy figures lurking on the far balconies, “one of those _will._ They have sensed it. Vitiate knows I am plotting against him. The Dark Council knows I am plotting against _them._ You are my rightful heir to all of my knowledge and power, and you are my greatest legacy. I will not allow anyone else the privilege of taking my life, and I will be _damned_ if I will allow a crippling and incurable disease to take that honour from you. _Draw your blades,_ apprentice.”

Adrestin squeezed all four of his eyes shut and took a slow, deep breath. He dropped down to one knee and reached for his master’s hand. Grasping it gently in both of his own, he kissed Scadox’s fingers and pressed his knuckles to his cheek. “I can never repay you for all the strength and wisdom you have taught me, for the power you have shown me. I will never forget all that you have given me, nor the sacrifices you have made to keep me by your side.” He blinked back his tears. “I love you, Lord Scadox, greatest among masters.”

He got to his feet and finally met Scadox’s eyes. As he unhooked his lightsabers from his belt, he saw a real smile spread across his master’s face, full of warmth and affection. “You give me such pride, Adrestin.”

Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, Adrestin stepped back and settled into the opening stance of Ataru, the sunbursts in his eyes flaring red as he ignited his blades. “I will miss you.”

The golden blade of his master’s saberstaff flashed in the dimming light of the setting sun. “Death is but one end of many. We will see each other again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Scadox was one of the founders of my subversive shadow government within the Sith Empire, the Sith Tribunal. Adrestin bears his horns as lightsaber hilts in his honor and at his posthumous request.


End file.
